


It Was Always You

by wingsatmidnight



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, probably the vaguest descriptions of sex you'll ever read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 07:06:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7212670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsatmidnight/pseuds/wingsatmidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are only two instances in which Osaka Sougo is completely honest with his feelings. When he’s drunk and clingy. And when he’s alone with Nikaido Yamato.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Was Always You

There are only two instances in which Osaka Sougo is completely honest with his feelings. When he’s drunk and clingy. And when he’s alone with Nikaido Yamato.

It’s rare that they’re alone together, getting back early while the rest have late schedules or having the day off while everyone else is at school or work. Whichever arrangement it is, when their schedules match, they take the time to immerse themselves in each other.

No matter where it begins, their patterns have fallen into a comfortable predictability. On the couch with soon-to-be-forgotten mugs of coffee or pressed against the wall just inside the doorway, Yamato’s lips find Sougo’s and Sougo’s arms wrap around Yamato’s waist, pulling him impossibly close as they kiss.

Sooner or later, Sougo’s scarf is discarded on the floor, his cardigan hanging off his shoulders, close to following suit. Yamato’s outer shirt has already joined the scarf on the floor and their kisses are deeper, more drawn out as Yamato’s pale fingertips roam the even paler skin of Sougo’s back beneath his shirt.

By the time Yamato’s lips are trailing down the pale column of Sougo’s neck, his fingertips are already dancing across the front of Sougo’s jeans, touching and teasing as Sougo stifles soft whimpers against the back of his palm, fingers of his other hand already tangled in Yamato’s hair. Only when Sougo is teetering on the brink of losing control and pushing his hips against Yamato’s hand does Yamato pull away and tug Sougo upstairs to either of their rooms.

It’s when they’re in their own private space that more clothes are shed, clumsy fingers tugging at shirts or fumbling with belts as they slowly move to the bed, lips pressed together as bare skin meets the sheets. Sougo’s back arches up as his fingers scrabble for purchase against the sheets and his legs spread to accommodate Yamato’s body between them as Yamato kisses his way down Sougo’s chest, pausing to leave marks or to tease Sougo where he’s sensitive. Within these four walls, Sougo doesn’t care to muffle his voice, even though hearing his own moans echoing back at him makes him flush more than anything else ever could.

But he doesn’t care, not when all that occupies his thoughts is a continuous mantra of _Yamato Yamato want need want Yamato need_ as Yamato’s lips close around him, fingers digging into his thighs so hard that they’ll surely bruise and Sougo throws his head back, pale hair fanned out on the pillow.

Sougo’s so distracted by Yamato’s lips and tongue in all the right places that he nearly misses the feeling of slick fingertips pressing against him, into him, beginning to stretch him out. He counts a slow one… two… three as Yamato’s fingers enter him gently, not rough, never rough, not even when they did this in the shower with half the other members just metres away on the other side of the door.

He’s breathless and trembling and on the verge of begging by the time Yamato makes his way back up Sougo’s torso, and Sougo can taste himself when Yamato’s lips claim his again. He’s barely aware of Yamato positioning his pliant body, lining himself up before pushing in slowly as Sougo cries out, fingers finding their way into Yamato’s hair and pressing into the skin on his back.

For someone usually so quiet, Sougo is unrestrainedly loud as he and Yamato move in tandem. They don’t need words to communicate what they want, the press of Sougo’s fingertips conveying _harder, faster, more, need_ just as effectively as Yamato’s nips and kisses along his collarbone. They rush to the edge, teetering for a moment before falling together, drowning in bliss as they reach their high and shower each other in kisses on their way down.

“I love you, Sou,” Yamato says when their breathing has evened out and Sougo replies with a chaste kiss and the smile he keeps reserved only for Yamato.

They always bathe after, Yamato carrying Sougo to the bathroom so that he doesn’t have to make his way on still-unsteady legs. Sougo always nuzzles the nape of Yamato’s neck, holding on tight as he’s carried.

Drowsiness tends to set in as they make their way back to bed and Sougo tugs Yamato down beside him, immediately snuggling close as Yamato strokes through his hair.

“Yamato, I love you,” Sougo whispers, and Yamato hugs him tighter as he leans down for a kiss.

They settle down to sleep, Sougo tucked in Yamato’s protective embrace, legs tangled together, silver hair brushing Yamato's jawline. Neither could be more content as they drift off enveloped in peaceful bliss.

**Author's Note:**

> Sougo's birthday rabbit chat killed me and then Yamato having that heart to heart with him in the latest installment of the story killed me more so this was born. I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS


End file.
